


The other way around

by Miss_Kitten



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-22 03:23:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11958666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Kitten/pseuds/Miss_Kitten
Summary: Reader gets hurt while falling into Goblin Town. When the Company gets out, Thorin quickly comes to her side,





	The other way around

You try your best to remain calm and not alert any of your companions. You have a suspicion that you might have broken something when you fell from the cave and into Goblin Town but it may be nothing as well. Only aching ribcage.

You are led right after Thorin and before Dwalin, who watches you intensely. You can feel his burning gaze on the nape of your neck – that’s the highest he can reach, being the tallest of the Dwarves.

At the beginning, when you arrived at Bag End with Gandalf, you were ready to give up on the task of protecting Thorin Oakenshield and leave the Dwarves to their aversion and visible hostility towards you. No money was worth bearing side-glances and grimaces.

Yet, as the one you were to shield from the harm appeared, your mind had changed and you knew that you would follow him to the world’s end. As soon as your eyes met his, you were lost.

Of course, he was reluctant to allow you to accompany them, not to mention being his protector. He stated that he didn’t need one, least of that a human girl, but you had proven him wrong when you were ambushed by Orcs on your way to Rivendell. You were the last to jump into the passage, protecting not only Thorin but his nephews as well.

And just so happened that Thorin showed  his gratitude in a way most surprising not only to you, but for the rest of the Company, too. During the feast, he came to your side, bowed his head and asked for a permission to court you.

You were speechless, to say the least. For a brief moment you thought it was a cruel joke but dumbstruck faces from the rest of the Dwarves told you that Thorin was sincere.

How could you say no when your heart belonged to him the moment he stepped into the hobbit’s house?

Since then, a beautiful braid has been adorning your hair, with a bead matching Thorin’s. You gifted him with one of your thin silver rings, which he wear with pride.    

“Y/N, lass, are ye fine?”

“Aye, master Dwalin, I am.”

“Yer breaths are shallow,” he remarks and it makes Thorin jerk his head to look at you, despite the goblins pushing all of you forward. His gaze is concerned, a silent question in it and you squeeze a tight smile.

From his furrowed brows and pursed lips you guess that he doesn’t believe you even in the slightest.

Yet, you don’t have a chance to speak more as you are pushed onto a ramp with what looks like a throne. A huge, obnoxious creature occupies it and you assume it’s the Goblin King.

One of the goblins nudges your side rather painfully and you growl lowly, trying to suppress the noise, to no avail. Every single one of the Dwarves looks at you with worried expression and you shut your eyes to force away the tears.

“Amralime?” Thorin asks quietly as he scoots closer to you, one arm wrapped around your waist protectively.

“I think my ribs are broken,” you whisper into his ear but before he can reply, a booming voice of the Goblin King draws your attention.

“Who dares walk into my kingdom? Thieves? Spies? Assasins?!”

“Dwarves. And a human girl.”

“A human girl?! Among Dwarves? What are you waiting for, search them!”

The goblins push between you, their small dirty hands rummaging over your packs and clothes, but luckily for you they find nothing more than the swords they’ve already taken.

“What are you doing here, eh?” the Goblin King inquires, his voice demanding and you stiffen. Neither of the Dwarves says a word and the King of Goblins grimaces.

“Good then. They don’t talk, we make them squawk. Bring the bone breaker! And start with the girl!” he gives you an ugly smile and you feel a cold sweat appearing on your forehead. You are about to say that there is no need for any machine, your bones are already broken but you bite your tongue.

“Wait!” Thorin exclaims out of sudden and you look at him with disbelief in your eyes as he pushes his way to the front.

“Well, well, well, look how it is,” the Goblin King muses, gazing at Thorin, evidently amused. “Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King under Mountain,” he gives Thorin a mock curtsey and you grit your teeth. Oh how you wished you had your swords.

“Uh, but I forget you don’t have a mountain, and you’re not a king, which makes you nobody really,” the King continues with his mockery but Thorin remains silent and composed. “I know someone who will pay a pretty price for your head. Just the head, no body attached. Perhaps you know whom I speak of. The Pale Orc.”

“Azog the Defiler was destroyed,” Thorin snarls and you rise your brows in shock. You know the tale, the Orc was said to be dead.

The Goblin King only smirk and turns towards a little creature on his left, which is supposedly a scribe.

“Send a news to Pale Orc. Tell him I have his price.”

The goblin cackles as it slides lower and lower on the ropes and you feel the dread sipping into your body. Without your weapons you can do nothing more than wait for the Orc to take you. Or maybe the wizard will come to your rescue?

Yavanna knows you shouldn’t have left Rivendell without Gandalf. Curse Thorin and his stubbornness. You would have had more sweet moment, hiding away from the rest in the gardens, exchanging affections and chaste kisses. You would give anything to be able to feel Thorin’s tender touch, his lips so warm and soft against yours, his hair so silky between your fingers…

You don’t hear the hideous song and truth be told, you don’t feel like you missed something. The only thing you can sense is the head-spinning pain in your ribs that nearly brings you to your knees. Fortunately, Dwalin, Bofur and Kili formed a sort of circle around you, shielding you from the nudges of goblins as they toy with all of you.

“Look at the sword!” suddenly the Goblin King calls, fright hinting his voice. You turn your head to look at him, fighting off the ache.

“It’s the Goblin-cleaver! The blade that sliced thousands throats!” the goblins lose their heads as they attack, jumping on all of you from every side, scratching and slapping.

“Slice them! Kill them! Kill them all!” the King exhorts and the goblins oblige as their assault becomes more savage. You feel a punch on your head and you scream, aiming to smack the attacker back. A mocking cackle tells you that you didn’t reach it and you advance forward as more and more goblins appear.

Thorin is pushed onto the ground, three goblins keeping him still as one sits on his chest.

“Cut off his head!” the King orders but before the goblin can execute the order a white light forces all of you onto the ground and for a moment you are senseless.

Opening one of your eyes you see Gandalf stepping closer and closer and with a pained moan you manage to push yourself up and reach of your swords.

“Take your swords! Fight!” Gandalf calls but for you, only the first part is possible to perform as the pain jolts through your body every time as you as much as try to lift your hands.

You can only run, hoping that someone will help you make it out of the Goblin Town.

Luckily, Fili pulls you between him and Kili as they follow Gandalf, who calls for everybody to run for their life.

You gladly oblige forcing your legs to move as fast as possible, stopping only when the Dwarves have to fight the goblins off. You ran and jump and run faster until the Goblin King stops you.

Much to your happiness, Gandalf finishes him off fast and it seems that all that’s left is to somehow escape the Town.

You have not suspected that you will have to suffer through another fall, damaging your ribs even more. it was almost impossible to run but the thought of seeing daylight again keeps you going.

A small moan of delight leaves your lips as you feel rays of sun on your skin and the grass under your feet. You collapse onto the ground, propping yourself against a fallen log, trying to calm down your breathing.

Every deeper breath cause you unbearable pain and you are sure that you will soon rip your hair off your head if it doesn’t stop. You try to take shallow inhales, which is a lot easier.

Oin approaches you after a few moments and you silently point at your ribcage. Telling aloud won’t work since the goblins smashed his trumpet. You can hear the rest is having rather heated argument, Thorin leading in barking at each other, but you feel too weak to interfere.

Oin is saying something but now, as you are finally out of the Goblin Town, ridden of danger your body shows how injured it is. The ache is getting stronger and stronger and you are positive that the Company will have to leave you behind.

Gandalf fishes out a foil out of his pack and Oin pours a few drops into a cup of water, passing it to you. You down it in one go, slightly cringing at the bitter taste.

“It’s for the pain, you should feel better in a moment,” Gandalf says softly and you force a smile at him before a very worried Thorin drops on his knees by your side.

“My love?”

“I will be fine,” you assure him, although your breathless voice doesn’t convince even you.

“We take a break here!” Thorin announces and motions you to straighten your legs while he gently touches your middle.

“You seem unharmed, save for the ribs.”

“I could tell you if you asked me, Thorin.”

“I needed to see for myself.”

“And what’s the sentence?” you quirk up your brow while Thorin glances at you amused.

“You will be fine, my sweet Y/N,” he whispers and places a kiss on your temple.

“I cannot fight.”

“We have fifteen more or less skilled fighters. I say it’s not that bad.”

“But I’m supposed to protect you, not the other way around,” you complain, the corners of your lips curling down and Thorin cups your cheeks, thumbing at them gently.

“When I have asked you to allow me to court you, do you think that it did not meant protecting you with my all my might? With the braid I put in your hair, I have promised to keep you safe until we marry.”

“You want to marry me?” your brows jump as you focus a surprised gaze on him. Thorin’s lip curl into a small fond smile.

“That’s what courting usually leads to, darling.”

“Well, it didn’t occur to me till you said it out loud,” you admit and Thorin chuckles airily, leaning in to kiss your forehead.

“Of course I wish you to marry you. Make you my Queen.”

“I like the sound of that,” you smile sweetly at him as you rub your nose against his and Thorin carefully brushes his lips against yours in a slow yet passionate kiss. You try to shift closer only to hiss when a jolt of pain crushes through you.

“Don’t get too excited, Y/N. I think we need to be cautious until your ribs grow together.”

“Too bad I lost my corset in Rivendell,” you mutter, winking at Thorin. He lowers his gaze, pretending to be bashful while it’s clear that he’s proud of the deed.

“You didn’t complain when it got lost, as you call it.”

“Didn’t know then that I’d need it, darling.”

“You don’t seem to be very regretful.”

“Oh but I am! Not because I don’t have a corset but because we cannot-“

“Soon, my love,” Thorin laughs through his nose as he places a kiss on your forehead. “Soon.”      


End file.
